


Mr. Hospitality

by abysmallydull



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Comfort, Drama, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-27
Updated: 2012-12-27
Packaged: 2017-11-22 15:38:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/611416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/abysmallydull/pseuds/abysmallydull
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Never let it be said that Tony wasn’t the perfect host. Have something you need? It will be there, just say the word. It’s a twisted sort of pride that makes this proud man cater to your every wish and need. He’s the best host, damn it, and you’d better appreciate how he’d bend over backwards (or forwards, if you want) to see to your needs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mr. Hospitality

“Don’t you think you’re taking this too far?”asks Steve through gritted teeth. He was trying hard not to buck his hips against Tony’s mouth.

Tony pulls off just far enough, his goatee still brushing against Steve’s cock and making Steve hiss as he said, “No one’s going to suffer through any _hardship_ under my roof.”

“Tony…”Steve all but groans as Tony swallows him back down. There are no more words after that, just harsh breaths and stuttering hips as Tony unerringly guides Steve to his orgasm.

When Steve blinks back the spots that clouded his vision, it is to the sight of Tony licking his dick clean. He watches, fascinated, as Tony’s Adam’s apple bobs up and down and tries not to think of _why_. Steve drags his eyes back up from the distracting curve of Tony’s throat and his wet, red lips, and meets Tony’s eyes with a jolt, realizing that Tony had been watching him the whole time.

Tony stands up in one graceful stretch, a languid smile on his lips, as he presses a kiss to the corner of Steve’s mouth. “Is there anything else you need, Captain?”

Steve’s hands automatically clamp down on Tony’s arms to keep him there and he turns his head so he could give a real kiss to Tony’s lips, even as he blushes once he tastes himself on them. Tony opens his lips obligingly to Steve’s tongue and they spend long moments just kissing until Steve’s body has stopped shuddering and his heart has stopped racing from his orgasm.

“Mmm,” Tony all but purrs when Steve pulls him tight against him. He rests his head on Steve’s broad shoulder, running soothing hands across his back. “This is nice,” he says and he closes his eyes, willing to wait and see what Steve wanted.

“Tony, you’re still… I mean, you haven’t…”

Ah, of course Steve would notice seeing as how he’s pressed up against him. “Don’t worry about it, Cap, I’ll take care of it.” He runs his hands down Steve’s back one last time before he steps back. “All good, now?” He asks, getting ready to leave to do exactly as he told Steve.

Steve takes a step forward to recover the distance between them. “I could…” he gives Tony’s crotch a light brush of his hand, blushing to the tips of his ears. And really, that is just too cute. Steve couldn’t even say “hand job” when just a few moments ago he was choking Tony with his dick.

“Would you?” Tony asks, stepping even closer, which presses Steve’s hand more firmly against him.

One spectacular hand job and a quick shower later, Tony is back at his lab working, and humming to himself. Afterglow is the perfect state of mind for working and inventing; caffeine high would just need to accept second place. Although, who says he has to choose anyway? He can have coffee after sex (afterglow coffee), or maybe before sex (sexual tension coffee), or even during sex (first-degree burn coffee). Okay no, definitely not during sex. Bad idea. So lost was he in his inner ramblings, he doesn’t register that JARVIS has turned off his music and is speaking to him.

“Sir?” JARVIS calls out tersely. And it was that tone of voice that snaps Tony completely back to the present. “It seems Dr. Banner requires your assistance in his lab.”

“Shit!” Tony picks up his bracelets and puts them on as he ran towards Bruce’s lab. Bruce never lets Tony inside his lab without them and it would never do to anger him.

Tony slows down as he comes within view of Bruce’s lab. Everything is quiet inside. He keys in his code and the door opens smoothly. Tony quickly scans the lab until he spots Bruce sitting on the floor among the collapsed remains of an experiment. There is a definite green tinge to his skin.

“All right there, big guy?” Tony asks as he carefully steps through the debris to Bruce.

“Tony,” Bruce says in relief, turning his head to face him. Already the green tinge is receding. He takes Tony’s proffered hand and pulls himself to his feet. Tony’s arms go around him as soon as he is upright and he gratefully relaxes into the other man’s embrace. Tony is taking slow, deep breaths and Bruce closes his eyes and matches Tony’s rhythm.

As Bruce breathes in Tony’s scent, he could _feel_ the other guy settle down. The Hulk is definitely impartial to one Tony Stark. He chuckles a bit at that. Tony’s arms tighten briefly around him before the man pulls back, holding him at arm’s length.

“Is that what we’re doing now? Just laughing after you trash my lab?”

“You said that this was my lab.”

“It’s still my house.”

“I know.” Bruce steps closer and pulls Tony against him again. “Thank you.” For letting him stay, for calming him down, for not walking on egg shells around him – Tony knows all that, there’s no need for Bruce to say it out loud. There is a reason why they’re both called geniuses. Instead he turns his head and Bruce is already halfway there and they share a kiss, slow and deep.

Tony wraps his arms more tightly around Bruce’s waist and angles his head and thrusts his tongue deep into Bruce’s waiting mouth. Bruce groans and suddenly they’re both breathing hard and clutching at each other a little desperately.

“Tony,” Bruce gasps as soon as Tony releases his lips.

“I’m right here,” Tony answers, pressing open kisses across his jaw, his hands already making their way down.

“Stop,” Bruce manages to say in between pants. Tony groans and presses a final kiss to Bruce’s kiss-swollen lips before pulling back.

“I really think sexual frustration is _not_ good for you.”

“Not until I can be completely sure I won’t hurt you.”

“How can you be sure if we never try?”

Bruce just gives Tony a look. Tony’s eyes widen. “Holy shit, Banner, are you for real?”

Bruce has now disentangled himself from Tony and is picking his way back out of the mess on the floor. Tony is too caught up in the mental image of Bruce masturbating and collecting data about it to notice until he tries to pull him back only to catch on thin air.

“Hey, can I watch the next time you do your ‘experiment?’”

“I’m busy, Tony,” Bruce answers, already bent over a computer and typing furiously. “As you can see, I’ve got an experiment I have to try to salvage.”

Tony pouts. “Fine,” he says. He walks over to Bruce and gives his ass a squeeze (not even a small jump from Banner, damn) before he walks to the door of the lab. “Call me!” he says in parting.

Bruce just laughs and shakes his head.

Unfortunately, Tony doesn’t get the chance to follow up on Bruce’s progress on his ‘experiment’ because the very next day, they are all assembled and fighting against alien robots.

Random fact: sex with Clint was always hard and brutal. Maybe he misses the physicality when they’re out fighting for the world since he’s always somewhere high up. Never mind that he’s firing deadly arrows and exploding things (and Tony made sure that those were big explosions), there’s rarely any close contact between him and their enemies. Tony can understand what Clint feels. He knows he can deal as much damage, if not more, using the repulsor beams on his hands, but there’s also something satisfying in feeling the monster or robot du jour give under his fists. Maybe that’s why the Hulk looks so goddamned happy when they’re out fighting.

Anyway, Tony knew that he was going to be pounded into his bed when he saw the Hulk smash the last alien robot before Clint’s arrow could connect.

He flies back to the tower feeling a bit on edge. It’s not just post-battle adrenaline, no, that battle with the alien robots was more like a warm up to the main event. He forces himself to walk calmly as robots stripped him of his armor. He takes a detour by the bar and drinks a bracing shot of whiskey.

“Stark.”

“Barton,” Tony says in reply. He pours another shot. He definitely can’t do this on just one. He sets down his glass and chances a glance at Clint. The other man is breathing heavily and obviously just itching to get his hands on Tony. Right, no need to make the man wait, unless he wants to be fucked on the couch instead of his undoubtedly more comfortable bed.

“Shall we?” No one can accuse Tony of not being polite. Even when it’s an invitation to rough sex.

Tony is barely through the door of his room when Clint’s hands were on his shirt pulling it up and off him. Not missing a beat, Tony goes straight for his jeans and shucked them off together with his underwear. Clint grips his hips and starts walking him backwards and pushing him over the bed.

It was a battle after that. Clint bites and bruises his way through Tony’s body and Tony gives back as good as he got. Tony only stops struggling once Clint gets him into a hold that pushes his head down to the mattress and pulls his ass up to the air. They both know the inevitable conclusion.

Clint slicks him up with one hand, the other still holding Tony’s hand behind him. He only lets go to grab Tony’s hips and position him over his cock. Tony whimpers a bit as the head of Clint’s cock touches his opening.

“All right?” Clint asks. He may be brutal, but he never took without permission.

“God, just-“ Tony grits and groans as Clint pushes forward inch by inch. They stay still for long moments and Tony knows it is the calm before the storm. He braces his knees more firmly and puts his head down between his arms. Clint takes that as the green light to start fucking him in earnest.

The obscene sounds of skin slapping skin filled the room, punctuated by their harsh breaths. Clint sets a relentless pace, and it is all Tony could do to stay there and take it. All too soon and not soon enough, Clint is gripping his hips hard and groaning in his hair. “Fuck, Tony you’re so damned _tight_. I’m gonna-“

“Come on, Clint,” Tony urges, pushing up on his elbows and arching his back.

A sharp cry and a bruising grip signals Clint’s orgasm. Tony holds still as Clint shudders through it and then collapses on the bed with him, his arms and legs finally giving out.

“Come here,” Clint says, still out of breath. Tony smiles a bit at that and wriggles closer. Clint’s calloused hand wraps around his cock and works him up as tenderly as he had been brutal just moments earlier. When Tony’s orgasm hits, it feels like a long delicious stretch that wrings him out as thoroughly as the rough sex.

Tony falls straight to sleep almost right after that; he is sure he’d imagined Clint brushing a kiss on his temple.

* * *

 

When Tony first invited the Avengers to stay at the tower, it had been a matter of pride to accommodate all their needs. Have something you need? It will be there, just say the word. He wasn’t going to give them any reason to complain. He was going to be the best host, damn it, and they’d better appreciate how he’d bend over backwards to see to their needs.

He just didn’t think that he’d be doing that last one quite so literally.

To be honest, while he did have an idea of preparing things for his team (there’s a reason why almost everything in the living quarters in the tower is reinforced), seeing to their needs _personally_ almost came as an accident.

He first came to Bruce, for obvious reasons, to see how he’s settling in and if he’s happy with the arrangements. He’d set up a lab for him like a good science bro and he was just about ready to give himself a pat on the back for a job well done when the shrill note of the alarm pierces the air and the glass windows helpfully flash red. Needless to say, Bruce was badly shocked and was in danger of hulking out. Tony quickly yelled out instructions to JARVIS to cut the alarm in the lab and ran to Bruce’s side. Whatever the emergency was, if they weren’t able to keep Bruce from hulking out, there would be another cause for alarm right here.

“Bruce, look at me, buddy,” Tony said in his most calming voice. Bruce moaned and grasped blindly for Tony, trying to find that soothing voice.

“Right here,” Tony said, as if in answer to Bruce’s unspoken question and warm hands enclosed him gently. Tony felt Bruce calm down as he took deeper and steadier breaths.

“JARVIS, what happened?”Tony asked once Bruce had settled down, still holding on to him gently.

“A small fire in the kitchen, sir,” came JARVIS’ unflappable tones. “It has been dealt with successfully by Captain Rogers.”

“All right. I’ve got to do something about that alarm,” Tony said ruefully. “You okay?” he asked the top of Bruce’s head.

“Next time you should leave,” Bruce answered Tony’s collarbone.

“I’m not going to leave you like that. And especially not when there might be danger.”

“The other guy makes sure I’m safe, Tony.”

“Yeah, but if _we_ make sure you’re safe, there’s no need for him to come out. Plus, see, no broken lab.”

“You could get hurt.”

“I won’t. No, listen,” Tony interrupted Bruce’s protest before he can even begin. “He knows us. He won’t harm us. Gotta trust him a bit.”

Bruce pulled back then and looked Tony in the eye. Tony wrapped his arms tighter to pull him back in, and then Bruce felt the cool metal of Tony’s bracelets on his neck.

“You’re wearing your bracelets.”

“I’m not an idiot.”

That surprised a laugh out of Bruce.

 “So does that mean I can come back here next time?” Tony asked with a grin.

“Of course. You still need to fix the alarm.”

Tony came to visit many more times after the alarm was fixed (a special “Zen” version just for Dr. Banner) and making little improvements to the lab and bringing in instruments that can help Bruce in his work. Bruce was never more relaxed than when Tony was present, something that Tony quickly noticed, so he made it a point to always spend some time with Bruce. Guy needs a break. Tony strongly suspects that people’s wariness tends to raise Bruce’s hackles and puts him on the edge. He’s familiar with that feeling of people expecting him to fuck up or do something outrageous which just pushes him more to either prove them very wrong or very right. He knows what it’s like and maybe it’s that understanding that puts Bruce at ease.

But more than anything else, it’s the physical contact that Bruce craved and seemed to calm him the best and so the light touches that Tony so generously gives gradually graduated to hugs, and later on to kisses.

Like the one he is laying on Dr. Banner at the moment.

“Mmm, Tony,” Bruce breathes as he pulled away.

“Good?” Tony asks.

“Yes, very.”

“Want some more?”

Before Bruce could answer, Tony’s lips are on his once more. Kissing Bruce was addicting.

* * *

 

Tony leaves Bruce’s lab long moments later with his lips red and his hair disheveled. He comes upon Thor in the kitchen.

“Tony! Come join me in my repast!” Thor greets enthusiastically. Tony eyes the bowls upon bowls of popcorn on the counter. The microwave beeps, signaling the completion of yet another batch of popcorn.

“What is…okay, who taught Thor how to make popcorn?”

“It is most fascinating,” Thor continues, oblivious to Tony gaping as he places another packet in the microwave. “To think that such tasty sustenance comes from such a small packet! Were I not familiar with your ‘technology’ I would say this was sorcery!”

“Okay, you know what, so long as there’s popcorn why don’t we watch a movie?”

“Brilliant!” Thor beams at him. Tony grabs two of the bowls and goes over to the living room where JARVIS has helpfully queued up Zombieland. Thor’s really into zombie movies, Tony found out. A few minutes later, the rest of the team piles in. Tony’s only surprised it took them that long to get there.

With the six Avengers (and one of them a god and another a super-serum-enhanced soldier), they are able to get through all the bowls of popcorn. And it only takes them three movies.

“JARVIS, hide the popcorn,” Tony groans.

“Mr. Odinson has gone through the entire stock of popcorn in the house,” JARVIS replies. “I’ve already placed an order-”

“Cancel that!” Five voices exclaim in unison. Tony blinks. Steve is grinning, as are Clint and Bruce. Even Natasha looks faintly amused. Thor looks miserable.

“Canceled,” comes JARVIS’ dry tone. Tony gives Thor’s sad expression one more look before he says, “Come on, God of Thunder Odinson. Let’s fly.”

Being the only two Avengers capable of flight, it wasn’t very surprising that they bonded over that activity. Tony loves flying. He loves being high up the ground, loves turning, diving, and somersaulting, loves the freedom, and loves seeing the sky that close. He loves it even more to have someone like Thor to share it with, Thor who loves flying just as he does and is very vocal about it. Tony has always felt a bit silly whooping in the sky after that first flight, I mean flying is something he does regularly now like walking, and people don’t just whoop when they walk, so when Thor does it, he feels strangely vindicated. A god who has been flying for hundreds, maybe thousands, of years still whoops like it’s his first time in the sky, so it should be fine for a mortal like him to do the same. More than fine, even.

“Hahaha!” Thor booms as he flew across the sky. “This night is marvelous, Tony Stark!”

“Woohoo!” Tony whoops in reply, turning a somersault in the air. He stops beside Thor and flips up his face plate. He grins back at Thor. “Race you to Lady Liberty?”

“I accept this challenge,” Thor says with mock solemnity.

“JARVIS?”

If JARVIS could sigh, he would, Tony knew. “Gentlemen, on my mark,” comes JARVIS’ voice over their comms. Tony putshis face plate down. He could hear Thor rumble. “Three, two, one, mark!”

It is past midnight when Tony and Thor makes it back to the Tower. There had been accusations of cheating and favoritism, and they’d had rematch after rematch before exhaustion and low battery levels forced them back to the ground. With an exhausted wave and a less than hearty slap on the back from Thor (but still enough to push him forward a few steps), they part; Tony going to the workshop and Thor to his bedroom.

Steve is waiting for him in the workshop.

“Good flight?” Steve asks from the couch.

“Mm,” Tony mumbles as he stumbles his way to Steve. Steve helpfully scoots over to make space. Tony all but collapses against Steve’s side.

“What’re you doing?” Tony asks, eyes closed and head on Steve’s shoulder.

“Reading an ebook.”

“Whoa, slow down there, Einstein.”

Steve huffs and nudges Tony with his shoulder. Tony sways away a bit before settling back down.

“Meanie.”

“Shh, I’m reading,” Steve admonishes gently. They are quiet for long moments, Steve’s heartbeat and breathing gradually lulling Tony to sleep. He knows he shouldn’t sleep yet; Steve came to his workshop for something, he needs to ask what. Tony makes it as far as “Steve, wh-” before he finally succumbs to Steve’s warmth.

Tony wakes the next morning lying down alone on the couch with a blanket tucked around him. The tablet Steve was using the night before is on the table in front of him. Okay, so he wasn’t dreaming that he saw Steve down in the workshop last night.

Tony stretches as he stands up. “Time, JARVIS?”

“Good morning, Mr. Stark. It is now 10:14 in the morning, and the temperature is a pleasant 78 degrees.”

At ten in the morning, there’s a good chance that Steve would be in the gym. Tony makes his way up to the kitchen first for a cup of coffee before heading there.

The sound of hits landing on the punching bag greets Tony, but instead of finding Steve, it is…Natasha?

“About time you got here,” Natasha says, landing a particularly vicious kick to the punching bag right where the groin would be. Tony winces.

“Uh, yeah, I was just looking for Steve, he needs me for something so I can’t really stay…” he starts edging out.

“Steve’s at SHIELD,” Natasha answers.

“Oh! Well, I gotta go I have, uh, work in the workshop.”

“Spar with me.” And Tony knows better than to argue against that tone, he does. So he doesn’t know why he says, “But I haven’t had breakfast yet, I need my energy…”

“No, that’s perfect. I don’t want you throwing up in the gym,” Natasha says with a smile. Tony decides to just shut up and shuffle forward than risk saying anything to make things worse.

The thing with sparring with Natasha is that surprisingly, the worst part is _before_ they actually start sparring. She’s got a way of looking at you that made you feel as if you were four and you just broke your mom’s favorite china in the middle of entertaining very busy and important people. And it’s not that Tony’s afraid for his life; he knows that Natasha would never actually kill him (unless it’s for a mission or something), but she’s very capable of breaking his balls. That’s also why he wears the proper and complete protective gear when he spars with her, and only her.

Once they get started though, Tony has to admit that it’s actually quite fun. Natasha knows how far to push him and her ingenuity forces him to literally think on his feet. He knows that he’ll never win a real fight against her without his armor, but it still feels like a victory every time he catches her off guard.

The fight eventually winds down, and okay, this part Tony doesn’t like too much either because this is when they start talking. Actually, this is when Natasha starts asking questions and Tony tries to evade them but still end up giving answers anyway because they’re still in the ring and his balls are still in danger and Natasha’s just going to read the answers off him anyway.

“So what did Steve want?”

“I don’t know, I fell asleep before I could ask.”

“Hm.”

“What?” Tony asks, suddenly defensive. Natasha just raises her eyebrows.

“We just slept. Actually, _I_ slept; I don’t know if he did.”

“Captain Rogers did indeed sleep on the couch. He left at 6:00 for his morning run,” JARVIS supplies.

“Thanks, JARVIS,” Tony says with a scowl. Natasha’s lips quirk.

“Sleeping together now, Stark?”

Tony doesn’t even pretend to misunderstand. “Not my idea,” he mutters. “He probably needed something important and just didn’t want to wake me or something, who knows?”

Actually, if anyone knows (aside from Steve), it would be Natasha. She knows everything that goes on in the mansion. She probably knows even more than JARVIS which is just crazy and Tony is not going to think of how. Natasha gives him a contemplative look that makes him squirm. He’s a grown man, damn it, and it’s not like he did anything wrong...right? He resolves to review video logs later.

They finally finish up. Tony takes off the protective gear, wiping off the sweat from his brow using the hem of his shirt. Natasha just shakes her hair loose and looks perfect.

“You need a shower, Stark.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Tony answers, too tired to argue and just wanting a shower himself.

After a long and hot shower (and damn do his muscles ache), he makes it to the workshop and gets to work. He pulls up blueprints for the Helicarrier and sets to work on secondary engines in case the primary ones fail and he’s not there to fix them. Fury has been harping on him to get those done ASAP (insert Fury creepy one-eyed-glare here) and seriously, he doesn’t need any more nightmares, so he decides he better get started on them.

About halfway through, he gets distracted by an idea for a new armor, and this is totally related to what he was doing earlier because the Helicarrier flies, and his suit flies too, so yeah, totally related. He’s thinking of creating a special lightweight suit designed especially for flight – fast speeds and long distances, which can be useful for reconnaissance and not because he wants to win against Thor in a race.

The door to his workshop opening provides yet another distraction and there’s Steve entering and bearing takeout.

“Food! You have food!” Tony exclaims by way of greeting.

“Hello to you too, Tony,” Steve says dryly, setting the food down on a clear spot on the worktable.

“Steve, you got burgers,” Tony practically groans, ripping the bag in his haste. He didn’t realize how hungry he was until he saw the food. Steve sets an orange juice at his elbow.

“Don’t choke,” Steve says laughing a little.

“It’s gonna take more than a burger to choke me,” Tony said, wriggling his brows. Steve coughs and turns red but he doesn’t break eye contact.

“When you’re done with that, we can test that theory,” Steve says through his blush, and really this is such a glorious day.

They make quick work of the food and soon enough Tony was straddling Steve on the couch. Tony grinds down on Steve’s crotch, eliciting a moan.

“So how do you want me, Captain?” Tony asks while continuing to rub against Steve. He smirks a little at Steve so visibly trying to stay on top of the situation.

“Naked first, Tony,” Steve manages.

Tony chuckles, “Of course, Cap.” He takes off his shirt with one motion and set about unbuttoning his jeans. He stands up to remove them completely and then gets back on top of Steve. “Better?”

“Tony…” Steve’s hands were roaming his torso, brushing against the edges of the arc reactor. Steve was staring at him and he belatedly realizes that Clint’s love bites must be all over his body right now. He leans forward to kiss Steve and hopefully distract him.

It works, albeit temporarily. Soon enough, Steve is mouthing at the marks and bruises left on his body.

“These don’t hurt?” Steve asks while giving a tender lick at a particularly dark bruise.

“Mmm, it’s a good hurt,” Tony says squirming and pushing closer to that mouth. Steve mutters something that he couldn’t catch. “Hm? What?”

Steve shakes his head and says instead, “I need to get out of these clothes.”

After that, there were no more words. At least not inside Tony’s head and nothing that made sense. Tony should be embarrassed by how quickly he’s reduced to a babbling mess.

“Hm, yes, fuck that’s good, Steve. Harder, come on, flex those muscles, I’ve seen you working out.” A gasp, as Steve thrusts harder. “Yes, that’s it! Oh god, oh god. STEVE.”

Steve would laugh except he’s afraid if he lets his guard down even a bit, he would come right then and there. Instead, he places all his focus in pumping his hips in and out of Tony’s tight, tight heat, listening to his moans turn into harsh pants as he brought them both close to the edge.

 “Steve, Steve, _please._ God, I’m so close.”

“I know, Tony,” Steve says with something close to desperation. A few more thrusts and then Tony comes with a groan, wordless for once, and Steve follows him soon after.

See, having Steve in the workshop is a very common occurrence. Having sex with Steve in the workshop is also a common occurrence. What’s not common is having Steve snuggle against him after that truly spectacular sex, all hard muscles and soft warmth. What’s not common is Tony settling down, restless limbs and brilliant mind quiet for the time being.

It wasn’t always this comfortable between them. At the start, it was as if there was a constant competition between them (well, mostly in Tony’s head). Tony, not used to having people around the house who actually eat, usually didn’t keep much of anything in the pantry or in the fridge. He got around to stocking food at home before the Avengers came, but apparently his estimates were way off. When Steve opened the fridge to just one measly tomato and gave a sigh, Tony took it as a personal affront, bought another fridge and made sure that JARVIS monitored the supplies and ordered on time. Tony counted Steve’s wide-eyed stare when he opened the fridge the next day to a full stock as a victory. Although why that victory felt hollow when Steve gave him a hesitant smile is a mystery.

The next round happened when Tony discovered that his reinforced punching bags still weren’t enough to withstand a frustrated super soldier’s punches. He scowled at the sight of Steve trying to fix one of the bags, took it as yet another personal affront, and came back with stronger and better punching bags. He didn’t stay long enough to see if Steve gave him another smile, but he did monitor how the bags fared. (So far, so good. Only 2 replacements in 3 months.)

Then there were movies that Steve wanted to see (ordered and loaded on the media system, take that!), music that he wanted to listen to (transferred to his player, bam!), books that he wanted to read (stocked in the library _and_ loaded onto his tablet for good measure, hah!), and many other things. Whatever Captain America needed, Tony Stark can provide because he’s a genius billionaire playboy philanthropist and not just a man in a tin suit.

Tony blames his pride and Steve’s muscles for this next event. It happened when Tony had wandered into the gym at around 3 a.m. To his surprise, early-to-bed-and-early-to-rise Steve was there and working out his frustrations not on the punching bag but…on himself?

He rubbed his eyes and blinked a few times and he’s sure that he’s awake and he’s not had any alcohol. Still, he would never mistake those rhythmic hand movements nor those sounds of slick on flesh.

“Can I give you a hand, Cap?”

“Tony!”

“No, wait, it’s okay!” Tony cut in quickly as Steve tried his best to cover himself, blushing furiously.

“Tony, get out of here!” Steve said, glaring and trying not to look at him at the same time. Tony decided that words are useless in this case and just dropped to his knees in front of Steve, who was sitting down on one of the benches. He put his hands on Steve’s tense thighs and raised an eyebrow at him.

“Tony…” Steve said, but it sounds less like a warning and more like a question. Tony can work with that.

“Let me do this, Cap.”

“Why?”

“Because you need it,” Tony answered simply. Steve looked at him for a moment before moving his hands away and giving Tony access.

“They weren’t kidding about the peak of human perfection,” Tony said as he licked his lips and got his hands on Steve’s cock before he can change his mind. He got a firm grip on it and started pumping.

“All right?” Tony asked.

“Yeah,” Steve said, a little breathless and wide-eyed like he couldn’t believe this was happening.

 “Tell me how you like it, Steve.”

“Just like that. It’s good,” Steve managed to grit out.

“Come on, soldier,” Tony said, shifting a little on his knees. His pants were getting a little too tight for comfort. He moved his hand faster.

“Tony…” Steve groaned.

They continued on this way for some moments, Tony adjusting his grip and speed, watching Steve’s reactions.

“I’m almost…Tony!”

“I’ve got you, Cap.” He tightened his grip more and let Steve thrust up into it, lost in the moment. After that, nothing could have stopped him from opening his pants and getting his hands on his own dick, slicking his length with Steve’s cum. He was pumping his fist furiously when Steve came down from his orgasm, just in time to see Tony fall into his.

Tony fell forward and planted his face on Steve’s thigh, panting. “God,” he said, in between breaths. Steve chuckled a bit and smoothed Tony’s hair out of his face. Tony would have happily stayed there until the morning, but they were both sticky and his knees were going to protest for sure. So he got up and picked up one of Steve’s towels and wiped them both clean. Steve watched him wordlessly and Tony could practically feel the tension crawling back in.

“So, uh,” Tony started.

“Thank you, Tony,” Steve said to the floor. Well, fuck. So much for helping him release some of his tension. Tony figured that there was nothing more he could do to make the situation any more uncomfortable so he said the first thing that came to mind.

“That was really good, Cap. We should do that again sometime. Soon,” and whoever put that idea in his head that he couldn’t make it worse should suffer because he was pretty sure Steve just tensed up a bit more at that.

Unexpectedly, that got Steve to look at him with a hesitant smile, and say, “It was really good for me too.”

After that, it became something they did after working out, jerking each other off in the gym or in the shower. Sometimes Steve comes to him in his workshop when he can’t be bothered to leave for days. And Tony took care of each one of his needs.

How he and Clint got started, on the other hand, was way less complicated and took a much shorter route.

It was after another one of their save-the-world fights. Or in this case, save New York, since it was really on a much smaller scale than their other fights. They got off with minor injuries, so after a quick check with the paramedics on the scene, they were all cleared to go. Tony actually flew Clint back with him that time and they landed on the deck of the tower.

After setting Clint down, Tony walked through the armor removal bay. He turned his head and found Clint just staring at him.

“Like what you see?” Tony asked out of habit. Clint’s eyes darkened.

“Yes,” Clint answered with none of the playfulness of Tony’s question. Huh, well Tony can deal with direct.

“Wanna fuck?”

Natasha had warned him that he was getting in over his head. He remember dismissing that (in his head, but not to her face, he doesn’t have a death wish _now_ ) as impossible and at the same time something completely expected because of course he’s Tony Stark and he never does anything simple. But yeah, he never took it seriously.

Now, he’s rethinking that decision. As if Natasha’s words were the magic words to unlock Pandora’s box , things begin to happen in rapid succession.

 “I’m fucked.”

Natasha raises an eyebrow.

“Yeah, ok, bad choice of words but seriously, _I’m fucked._ ”

They have this sort of arrangement that Tony does things for the Avengers that go beyond what normal people would do, but anyway Tony has never been one for “what normal people do.” He kisses and calms Bruce down before he can hulk out, has hard and fast sex with Clint to relieve his post-battle stress/tension, goes sparring with Natasha (sometimes he wears his suit and lets her dent it because it gives her such pleasure never mind the work that comes after), and watches zombie movies with Thor and then flies out with him after, which almost always ends in a race. Steve was little harder to read than the others, though. At first Tony thought that Steve just wants sex. Understandable, since he did spend more than half a century celibate. They’d taken to having sex every time Steve came down to Tony’s lab, which he did a lot. And then one day he arrives at the lab to Tony half passed out from lack of sleep (but even then Tony offered, he always did) and he just tucks Tony in the cot in the lab and cuddles with him. Best night’s sleep Tony has ever had. After that, they still have sex but they hang out a lot as well. Tony’s not entirely sure what Steve expects of him but so far, it looks like he’s doing a good job of meeting expectations.

It was all good until Bruce agrees to (finally) have sex with Tony and exposes all his vulnerabilities, and then Clint has to go and fucking _make love_ to him, and Steve says “I love you.”

Tony knows how to be useful. More than that, he knows how important it is to be useful. If he's useful he won't get discarded. It's just like with machines, you keep them until their usefulness runs out or something better comes along. That's why Tony is working this hard to make sure everyone in his tower gets what he or she needs. That’s why Tony is willing to give everything he has, down to the shirt on his back, to make sure that they’re happy, or at least satisfied enough not to leave.

(It doesn't explain why Tony has never thrown away any of his robots (case in point, Dummy) but keeps working on them and working on them and working on them. This has nothing to do with that whatsoever.)

And it’s not a problem; Tony _likes_ being useful. He likes what he’s doing with the Avengers. He likes knowing that there is a role that only he can fill. He even likes working on the projects Fury asks of him (after giving him hell and back first, of course). He likes flying with Thor, sparring with Natasha, calming Bruce down, being post-battle stress-relief for Clint, and teaching Steve about sex. Because that’s really all he’s doing and that’s what they want from him. He knows what their expectations are and he’s confident that he can meet them.

The problem is when people cross a line that changes everything. And he has definitely crossed that line. On this other side, he doesn’t know what their expectations are and how to meet them. He knows this place well; it’s a place of disappointment on both sides.

(There is another thing that Tony is good at, and that is avoiding the issue. But that’s neither here nor there.)

So he crawls into a bottle and that’s how Bruce, Clint, and Steve find him later. Natasha’s doing, Tony’s 100% sure. Only she would be sadistic enough to let those three loose on him at the same time. And that’s after he poured his heart out to her, that traitor.

“Why can’t we just go back to how we were before? When you were just using me?” As soon as those words left his lips, he knows he said the wrong thing. He doesn’t need to see their stricken faces to know. Alcohol and him have never been a good mix. Not like him and coffee, or him and Bruce, him and Clint, him and Steve… Suddenly alcohol seemed like a very good choice once more. He downs another shot. He grips the bottle to pour another one when he found that he couldn’t lift it. He sees the big hand on the lip of the bottle. Ah, that explains how it suddenly got so heavy.

“Is that what you think, Tony?” comes Steve’s too quiet and too earnest voice. Tony frowns, more than a little confused. He remembers thinking that something about him and alcohol and making pairs, oh what the hell. He should say yes, “Yes,” he answers with conviction.

Steve blanches, Bruce is turning a little green, and Clint is clenching his jaw so hard it looked like it would break. Hold on, back to Bruce. Yes, definitely a little green. He knows what to do when this happens.

“Bruce, buddy,” Tony says, trying not to slur. He takes a step towards Bruce and puts his hands on his shoulders lightly.

“Not now, Tony,” Bruce says warningly. Instead of relaxing like he usually did, he tenses up some more. Bruce was _never_ short with him, and that was more sobering than seeing him on the verge of hulking out.

He steps back, defeated. “I don’t know what you want from me.”

“What do you want, Tony?” Steve asks with an intensity Tony rarely sees outside the battlefield.

“What do I-…? What does that have to do with this?”

“Everything, Tony. You’ve always given us what we wanted, and we thought we were doing the same for you.”

“You are! I like what we’re doing,” Tony answers with some desperation.

“Tony.” And that was his Captain voice, one that brooks no argument.

“I want to be useful,” Tony answers reluctantly, words spoken so softly but echoes so loudly in the quiet room.

“You’re more than just useful, Tony,” Steve says just as quietly. “You’ve always been.”

“Stark,” Clint interrupts. Both men turn to look at him. “I never expected this, but it seems like you need things spelled out for you.” He takes one of Tony’s hands in his and uses his other to turn Tony’s face towards him and not towards the glass he had been staring at.

“I like fucking you. I like being rough with you. And I really appreciate the stress relief. But if you don’t feel like doing that or you want something else, it’s ok. I want that too. I’m not going to leave you. You got that?”

Tony’s glib reply dies on his lips when he sees just how serious Clint is. All he could do was swallow hard and nod. Some of Clint’s tension ebbs and that wrinkle between his brows eases a bit.

“Tony,” Bruce’s voice came from somewhere behind Steve. He steps forward, and takes the seat next to him. Clint lets go of his hand, and Tony’s arms automatically surround Bruce.

“You’re my home, Tony. Our home. You’ll never know how much I needed that or how much I wished for that. I never thought I would ever have it again. This feeling of being safe, of being home. Do you think I’m going to let it go?”

Tony just hugs him tighter.

“Tony,” and that was Steve’s voice once more. Tony looks up and sees the love that was there, has been there for some time which he refused to acknowledge. He looks at Clint and at Bruce and he sees it there too.

“I love you, Tony,” Steve says, and Tony has to close his eyes for a moment. It was too much, his eyes were burning. Or perhaps those were just the beginning of tears, and oh god, he was going to cry.

Steve moves behind him, and Clint goes to his other side and they all just held him tight. They aren’t going to leave him.

* * *

 

So. Three boyfriends. He can’t even properly manage one relationship and now he has three going at the same time. Well, he’s all for running before he can even walk. Or maybe in this case, the proper word should be ‘flying’ since that’s what it feels like.

**Author's Note:**

> This started out as just a PWP but ended up with a bit of a story. I envisioned this story a bit differently. More sex and less drama, but I'm really not very good at keeping on track. I hope you liked the story anyway. :D


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